"That was a good stretch,‟ Bree remarked, looking out on the countryside rushing past as the postilions took advantage of the famously fast road between Staines and Hounslow.

"Yes.‟ Max nodded agreement. "I would reckon we made thirteen miles an hour there. We‟ll be at the bridge over the River Crane in a moment.‟

"Then the Heath, then Hounslow and we‟ll be back where we started,‟ she said brightly, trying to keep the conversation going. That sentence was the longest Max had uttered since they left the inn, replete with ham, eggs and cherry preserve.